Shawn Sturgeon

The Saddest Thing

The saddest thing, the way you keep waking, walking outdoors to the saddest transportthat carries you for miles to where you don’t want to go, your papers ready, or your bag in hand, crossing the boulevards, obeying the signs—and sad the way you are just right for schedules, for hours that compel, and clothes that fit tight. Now that you’ve been bornto this place, the hours grow by days, by sun, by rain. Now you wonder when they’ll let you go home, and that’s the saddest thing ever.